


Flaming Love

by MrsMxrningstar



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Canon Universe, Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23070334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMxrningstar/pseuds/MrsMxrningstar
Summary: The apocalypse is averted, but the angel and the demon's story still goes on. Crowley's past may not have always been happy, but a very certain part was. One featuring a peticular angel.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 32





	Flaming Love

Crowley opened the door to his flat with a snap of his fingers and entered his home. Aziraphale followed while looking around the hallway. It was so empty and hollow, as if the demon didn't plan to stay in London for the next few years. Therefore, the paintings and pictures on the walls didn't really fit in here. It almost looked as if the former owner just took all the furniture and disappeared, leaving all the decoration. Crowley threw his coat over the big chair in the hall. "Make yourself comfortable, angel. We got the whole night in front of us." Aziraphale scanned the room. There was almost no furniture, except for a tv, a secretary and the golden throne the demon just sat down on. "Oh. Right." He snapped his fingers and a chair appeared in front of Aziraphale. Though it wasn't just a simple chair, more of a very expensive, silk covered golden seat. At the same time, a few miles away, a not further named member of the royal family fell very unexpectedly on the ground.  
The angel sat down. He kept examining the apartment, with a look of disbelief in his eyes. How could someone live in such surroundings? 

  
On the other hand, he couldn't remember the last time he cleaned up the bookshop.  
Crowley saw the angel looking around and said: "Yeah I know. You should see the hallways in hell, then you'll understand." On the bus they had discussed how they could deal with heaven and hell. They did come to a conclusion, but they both weren't exactly fans of it. Crowley was not especially eager to return to the place he was banned from, and Aziraphale didn't plan to ever visit hell. But it was the only way they could think of to avoid their superiors to punish either of them.  
"Can I ask you a question? A personal one?" Aziraphale asked. Since they were going to swap bodies, there were certain things they wouldn't be able to hide anymore, so he could also get to the point right now.  
Crowley raised an eyebrow and took off his glasses. "Depends. If I can ask you something, too, sure." Aziraphale took a deep breath. "What was it like? To fall?"

For a moment, there was absolute silence between them, and Aziraphale thought he could hear his own heartbeat. Then Crowley placed his glasses on the desk behind him and said: "Painful. Horrifying. But most of the time, it was lonely."  
"Most of the time?" the angel asked.  
"Falling is a process. You don't just literally fall from heaven. You slowly lose everything that made you an angel. And then they mark you." Crowley pointed at his eyes. "So everyone knows that you did something horrible. And when you lose every characteristic that defined you as an angel, everything you were, and every bit of hope is gone, they throw you out. Quite literally." Crowley's eyes seemed weirdly empty and far away, as if he just re-lived his fall from heaven. "Another thing was the fact that I was basically alone in hell afterwards. I mean, except for the very first fallen angel." Aziraphale frowned. "You mean Lucifer? I never got to meet him, must have been a very... 'fascinating' angel. I didn't know you were actually one of the first angels, but it makes sense. Otherwise you hadn't been in Eden." Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Fascinating, yes. But not in the good way. He convinced me to re-evaluate my thoughts on authority. But I have to admit, I always was suspicious of my older-- the archangels."  
Aziraphale quietly moved his chair a bit forward, for Crowley was telling him something incredibly private. He felt sorry for asking, but now it was too late. "So... no sauntering vaguely downwards?" Crowley smiled, but his eyes were still filled with a deep sadness. "No, angel. Not quite. So, may I ask you something now?" Aziraphale nodded. "Of course, my dear."  
Crowley shifted in his seat. Then he took a deep breath. "This... Us... This-- umm... Our- well- our friendship. This..." Crowley looked so lost and desperate, Aziraphale felt the need to touch his shoulder. It seemed to calm the demon down. He started again and looked the angel straight in the eye. "This is more, right? I mean, this isn't just a friendship. And this is why I wanted to ask... The... flashes of love you feel. All the time. You know where they come from, right?"

Aziraphale noticed that their hands had found each other. He nodded. "I think I do, they've been there for over 6000 years. Actually, even when I was still in heaven. Before we met. I thought it was because I had a rather...intimate relationship with--"  
"Raphael?" Crowley suddenly turned red. Aziraphale looked at him, very surprised. "How do you know-- Oh. _Oh_. Oh lord. I-uhm." The demon stared at the floor. "Guess it's been more than 6000 years," Crowley said.   
Aziraphale got up and started walking up and down the room. "How did I never notice?! I mean, you don't even look that different, apart from your eyes of course. Crowley, I am incredibly sorry for not recognising you, our former relationship had been so close and-- why do I suddenly remember everything?" Crowley got up too and took him by his shoulders; him walking back and forth started to make him nervous. "Angel, you need to calm down. It is normal to forget the Fallen. It's something they do in heaven, to keep their angels from sympathizing with former angels who fell."

Aziraphale still tried to process the fact that he basically had an affair with Crowley before he fell. And Crowley knew about it. For 6000 years. The angel wanted to disappear in the ground right now, but Crowley didn't seem to mind. "Wait. Was that why all these years, you've always been there when I was in trouble? In France? And the church?" Crowley nodded. "But that wasn't the only reason. I mean, I'd be pretty stupid to let my only other immortal acquaintance just get discorporated like that. And you have to admit, most of the times you didn't actually need help. You could have miracled your way out of these situations, but you didn't." Aziraphale knew Crowley was right, but what was he going to tell him? That he secretly wished for the demon to show up for him, that he wanted to reassure himself that Crowley was not a bad or evil person, more of an outstandingly nice demon? Crowley probably knew all of this already, he was an archangel once, and also demons tended to know about the "dark" desires of others. The angel shivered. Did that mean-- "Yes. I know about it. Sorry." Aziraphale wanted to die. Crowley knew about him longing for him for thousands of years. "Nononono, it's alright, angel! Please, I just--" Aziraphale looked at him as if he was going to kill first Crowley and then himself. Crowley knew he had to do something to stop his friend from having a nervous breakdown. And so he did something.

At first, Aziraphale didn't exactly realize what was happening. The feeling that was building up inside of him was entirely new to him, but he immediately knew he liked it. He felt Crowley's arms wrapping around him closer, and for a second, he thought the demon was trembling. Aziraphale slowly started to realize that the demon was actually hugging him. Demons don't give hugs. Never. Any form of physical contact was to avoid for most of them, and the majority didn't even know anymore what emotional attachments were.  
"Better now?" Crowley asked and wanted to step back, but Aziraphale pulled him back into the embrace. "Yes. But... I like this." He felt Crowley breathing out heavily, sounding very relieved. "Well, thank G-- Sa--... You know what I mean. I've actually never done this before, just seen it on TV. Humans seem to like it."  
"I like it, too."  
"You know, for years I've known what you think of me, but since you can feel other people's feelings towards places or beings, you knew a lot about me, too. What I want to say is, that whatever this is, whatever you feel this is -the feeling is mutual."  
They spend another five minutes experiencing what hugs were, then they parted. Well, their bodies weren't exactly close anymore, but the angel's hands rested on the demon's lower arms, and they still were so close to each other, Aziraphale felt Crowley's breath on his skin. The demon smelled of fire and leather. Probably because he sat in a burning car for several hours. "So uhm... does that mean that we're in--" Aziraphale didn't get to finish his question, because Crowley already answered. "Yes. It does, angel."  
"Well, I'm glad to hear that, my dear."

"So, uhm... how exactly does this work now? I mean what do I do?"

"Are you kidding me, angel?"

"What? No! Of course not! I just don't really have experience."

"How do you don't know about this? Everybody knows how this works, I mean, everybody does it."

"Well, I obviously don't. And just because you did it for a whole century, that doesn't mean anyone else did."

Crowley sighed and sat down on his bed. For ten minutes, he had been trying to explain the concept of sleeping. While it wasn't a necessity for demons or angels, Crowley still enjoyed it. Sleep was a wonderful state of not being dead but also not having to do or say anything. It was also practical when drowning in doubts and heartache.

"Okay, you know what? I'll show you." Crowley gestured towards the other side of the king size bed. Aziraphale hesitated, but when the demon sighed a bit more dramatically than necessary, he also sat down on the bed.   
"So, basically, you just...well, lie down. And then you find a comfortable position, and then you wait," Crowley tried to explain. The angel's expression was so confused, Crowley was about to cry of despair. "But... what do I wait for? What will happen?" The demon sighed again. "You fall asleep. And then, a few hours later, you wake up and -probably- feel, er, refreshed." Aziraphale already opened his mouth to complain, but Crowley stopped him. "Just. Don't. Ask. I know, to you it might make no sense. But just this one time, let me tempt you to try something new, eh?"  
Now it was Aziraphale who sighed. "Okay. I'll try. But you need to show me."

Several minutes later, they somehow had arranged to lie more or less comfortable next to each other in Crowley's bed. Well, to be honest, Crowley felt as if the angel next to him wasn't as comfortable, mostly because he was lying very stiff on his back and stared at the ceiling. "Can you at least take off the jacket? I mean, nobody ever sleeps with their casual clothes on." Aziraphale's coat miraculously disappeared, together with his vest. Crowley realized that he had never seen the angel without at least four layers of clothes. It would have been a lie to claim that his exposed wrists and forearms weren't kind of distracting, in a strange way.  
Aziraphale sat up. "Oh this is stupid, let's just-- I don't know, do something else."  
"Angel. Get yourself together and sleep! It really isn't that hard to learn, and you will enjoy it. I promise."  
The angel leaned back and tried to copy Crowley's posture. Now he looked more comfortable, Crowley thought. They were laying face to face now, and it reminded the demon of the stereotypical scene in rom-com's, were the two protagonists were facing each other the exact same way the two of them did right now, looking at each other with nothing but love and tenderness in their eyes. Crowley swallowed. The protagonists in those movies were lovers. Always. And tender-and-loving-staring-at-each-other mostly ended with something rather... delicate. People said that life wasn't a movie, but maybe, sometimes life was just like the movies. Without thinking too much about it, Crowley leaned forward and kissed the angel.

Aziraphale didn't know how to react at first. He of course knew what kissing was, and it wasn't his first either, but the first that mattered. Back in heaven they of course had their moments, but in heaven, physical love wasn't known. Angels had other ways of expressing their affection, which involved a lot of psychic and spiritual bonding.  
On earth, things were very different. In earlier times, kissing was just like a handshake today. Aziraphale had to admit he was involved in introducing kissing as a normal greeting, but this, obviously, was more than that.  
He gently kissed the demon back and moved his hand up to his head. Crowley's hair felt so wonderful inbetween his fingers, and Aziraphale wondered if this was a first for the demon, too.  
It was. Crowley had never been in a situation like this, but a few decades ago, when love between two people of the same sex wasn't a deadly thing anymore, he invested some time in doing "research". Nothing filthy, of course; he just collected various forms of media about the subject of "physical love".  
So, in a way, Crowley was indeed prepared for this situation, but he absolutely didn't feel prepared. On the other side, he didn't expect Aziraphale to be an expert. But somehow, it seemed to work.  
Crowley carefully parted their lips, but didn't move away. For a moment, he just looked at the angel, gently touching his cheek and running a thumb over his lips. Aziraphale had never felt so peaceful and valued in his life. Crowley seemed surprised of himself, as if he didn't expect himself to do such a brave thing. "Are you sure we should--" He didn't get to finish his question because now Aziraphale pulled him closer and kissed him, this time deeper, more passionate. Aziraphale smiled against Crowley's lips; everything just seemed to fit right now. As he felt a hand wrapping around his waist, he was about to speed things up with a little miracle, but he figured that sometimes, things were better done the human way.  
He felt Crowley opening the buttons of his shirt and his cold fingers against his skin.  
At the same time, Aziraphale slid a hand under the demon's shirt and pushed it over his head.

Suddenly, the angel took Crowley's hands and pulled away. "Wait. Heaven and hell may be still looking for us. Let's do this another time." Crowley wanted to just go on, say _who cares_ , but he knew Aziraphale was right. He also didn't want to pressure him into anything he didn't want to do. "Okay angel. You're right." Aziraphale felt guilty as he saw the dissapointment flash up in Crowley's eyes, but it soon disappeared and was replaced by an understanding and sympathetic look. Crowley sank his head back down on the cushion. "Shall I show you the wonders of sleep now, then?"  
Aziraphale smiled and nodded.  
Minutes later they had arranged to get into a sleeping position that was comfortable for both of them, and which combined the perks of sleep in general and sleeping together with someone else. Crowley put an arm around the angel's waist and had intertwined their fingers. He thought it was called "spooning".

The last hours had passed in record time. While Aziraphale tricked Michael into miracling him a towel, Crowley enjoyed scaring his former brothers.  
When they finally sat down at the table in the Ritz, Aziraphale immediately said: "Crowley? Do you feel... okay? Because... when I was in your body, I've noticed something."  
Crowley interrupted him. "I know what you mean, but let's not talk about this here. I've seen, your people didn't change a lot up there."  
Aziraphale nodded. "If I had known what it looks like down there..."  
Crowley knew what he meant. The crowded hallways and dirty floors always made him feel claustrophobic. He decided to change the subject and suggested to leave. "Sure, where do you want to go?" Aziraphale asked. Crowley shrugged and said: "I don't know, maybe to the shop?" The angel nodded.

Aziraphale opened the door to the bookshop. "After you.", he said and gestured inside. Crowley entered and immediately unwinded. Something about this house made him feel comfortable and gave him a feeling of warmth and "happiness", as far as he remembered the feeling. Over the past years he had started to connect "warm" feelings with certain places, such as the shop, the Ritz, Berkeley Square or St. James Park. But just now he started to realize it wasn't the places that made him feel better.  
He followed Aziraphale to the back of the shop and sat down on the couch. "How do you think this is gonna end? I mean, heaven and hell, and earth? All of us against all of them?" Aziraphale shrugged. "I honestly don't know, and I don't think I want to. Somewhen, it will. But let's just hope it will take them some more time, and also, as of now, neither of us have a side anymore. It's probably for the better." He let a glass of wine appear in his hand and took a sip. "Can I ask you something?" Crowley couldn't help but grin. "Sure, angel. The last time you asked me something--" Aziraphale interrupted him. "I swear, this is not what I mean. And the question I have may be a bit... sensitive. So if you don't want to answer, that is absolutely fine. When we swapped bodies, I noticed something. Your-- your wings." Crowley started to understand where the angel was going with this. "What about them?" Aziraphale hesitated. "They-- well... they seemed... broken to me. I mean, of course, they get damaged when their 'owner' falls, but from what I picked up, you basically are in constant pain. The only moment it stopped hurting was when we were both back in Berkeley Square."

Crowley swallowed. He knew he had to confess something now, but he just didn't know how to put it. "Yeah, about that... listen, angel. You feel those _flashes of love,_ but what you don't know is that you can 'reflect' them. Angels are created to cause harmony, so if they enter surroundings which are loved, or are around people who-- well, who love something, they send these flashes back. Unknowingly, of course. It works even better when the person or place is... 'receptive'. " Aziraphale didn't seem to understand. "And that means--" Crowley finished his sentence for him. "That means, if someone feels-- er, if someone for example loves some place near you, you kind of love them back. They don't directly feel it, but it makes people feel better, the love of an angel."

  
Aziraphale slowly started to understand. "So-- because _someone_ feels genuinely positive towards me, I mirror those feelings and they feel them, too? And that is the reason you're not in pain when we're together? Because I somehow reflect certain feelings around me?" Crowley nodded. "Exactly."  
Aziraphale suddenly started to laugh. Crowley had never actually seen the angel really lose it. He felt a bit uncomfortable, though he wished he would see it more often. "Angel? What on earth-- What's so funny?!" Aziraphale cleared his throat and wiped a tear from his eye. "Crowley. I didn't 'reflect' anything, not someone's fondness for a certain place or your very obvious feelings towards me, which you, by the way, already confessed in a way. What you just described is called a relationship."

  
Crowley's mouth hung wide open. He didn't expect an angel to explain the world to him, especially not this angel. Aziraphale continued. "Angels don't mirror emotions or feelings. What you didn't expect was demons being able to feel them, too. In a limited sense, even humans can 'feel' other people's emotions. How do you think they maintain a relationship? How do you think Adam and his friends keep up their friendship? Because humans trust each other. They notice when someone likes them a certain way, because they show it to them. And being with someone who likes you and who you like of course makes you feel better. That's -as unlikely as it seems- a normal thing." Crowley realized he wouldn't have to dramatically explain anything. Maybe he should just say it. Right now. Any second. "Crowley? Are you okay?" He noticed he still didn't say anything. Somehow, this was really hard, it seemed so easy on tv.  
All of sudden, a quote he had once read came to his mind.  
_If we wait until we're ready, we'll be waiting for the rest of our lives_.  
The rest of his life was an eternity, and for the past thousands of years, Crowley already knew how he wanted to spend them-- or with whom.

  
"Aziraphale? I need to apologize." Aziraphale froze. A lot of things were wrong with this statement. First of all, Crowley didn't call him by his name. Never. _Angel_. That was the name he was used to, the name only the demon used for him. Secondly, since when did Crowley apologize. Well, there was this one time, right after Aziraphale had made it clear that he didn't see them as friends or anything else related. He had regretted this talk in the pavilion later, or, to be precise, his behaviour and choice of words.  
Aziraphale already knew what Crowley was going to say, that he had made up the stuff about angels reflecting emotions to hide his own feelings. And he couldn't hold it against him, he had been the one to reject Crowley. When he wanted to run away with him, when he said they were on their own side, back when he didn't trust him and refused to get him holy water, and then, years later, when he gave him the water, but rejected his offer in the Bentley.

" _anywhere you want to go_ "

They both knew that "You go too fast for me" was not about Crowley's driving. Aziraphale had been scared. Scared that the next day, Crowley wouldn't be there anymore, that he hadn't just been discorporated but actually died for good. And it would have been Aziraphale to blame.

  
"Apologize? For what? You didn't do anything." He turned to Crowley and slightly touched his lower arm. "Crowley, there is nothing to be sorry about or anything to explain. I am the one who has to apologize. You always came back, you wanted to run away -for good reasons- and I always said No," Aziraphale said before Crowley could even start. "And for this I am sorry. You don't have to say anything, because somehow, I know what you are going to say, my dear."  
And with these words, he leaned forward and kissed Crowley. Finally, they didn't have to worry about anything, not about heaven nor hell. And somehow, everything was just like 6000 years ago, in heaven, when Crowley's name was still Raphael, and Aziraphale hadn't seen the horrors of earth and humanity.

  
Crowley's kisses felt so relieved and weightless and peaceful, Aziraphale immediately forgot every single concern about their superiors. The couch was not the most comfortable spot, but right now, there were more important things to mind. Crowley took his time to open the angel's shirt. They had been at this point before, but now there was nothing and no one to be afraid of anymore. Crowley was thought struck mind. He didn't know why he said it out loud.  
"Angel? Is this a first?" Aziraphale's face turned red.

"Uhm."  
"Angel?"  
"Listen, it was a long time ago and-- I was lonely and kind of depressed, it was 48 B.C. and--" Crowley laughed. "That was a joke, angel. I don't mind you doing whatever you please. I just wondered if any of us has experience. You don't need to explain yourself." He stopped. "48 years B.C.?"  
Aziraphale nodded. "You know about the library of Alexandria?" Crowley's face lightened up. He remembered. After he had heard of the fire, Crowley instantly miracled himself to Rome to find Aziraphale in a very dangerous state of grief. He had to carry him to their house, hide all the alcohol and lock the door to keep the angel from causing his own Fall by murdering Julius Caesar.  
"You really don't have to explain anything. It's alright." To strengthen his statement, Crowley leaned in and pressed a kiss to the angel's lips. This seemed to convince him. Aziraphale felt the soft fabric of the couch on his back; apparently he unknowingly had miracled his shirt away. Not that it would bother him.

It was true that angels weren't as "prone" to earthly pleasures as humans, but some -very few- quite enjoyed them. Most didn't feel a particular need for interpersonal activities. Another point was the fact that angels are sexless. While the majority never were engaged in a closer relationship, those who were never cared about their partner's gender identity. Those things were human made and angels distanced themselves from all the things humans invented to feel powerful. The only thing Aziraphale admired about heaven, even though the angels (and demons) didn't think that way to be inclusive.

Aziraphale felt Crowley taking his wrists and slowly pressing him down to the seating surface of the couch.   
Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley's waist, pulling him closer. The demon sent a trail of kisses down his neck, making him breathe out heavily. He slided his fingers through Crowley's hair. The heat from his own body and the fireplace must have made him sweat; strains of his dark red hair were sticking to his forehead. Aziraphale's hand remained on the side of Crowley's face, when he noticed his eyes. His beautiful, yellow serpent eyes, from which tears were dripping. "Are you okay, my dear?"  
Crowley smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I'm good. Just... New experience. Demons aren't used to gentle and mellow encounters." Aziraphale almost started crying, too, Crowley didn't deserve to feel that way, to think that he wasn't allowed to ever feel good or loved.  
The angel answered by pulling him down to kiss him again, being as close to him as possible. He pushed Crowley's shirt over his head and glided a hand down his chest, and, because somehow, this was Fate's great opportunity, they fell off the couch.  
Aziraphale, who was now on top, couldn't help but laugh and collapsed giggling on top of Crowley, who also couldn't hold himself together anymore. "Seems like were meant to have bad luck with this," the demon said, still laughing.  
Aziraphale decided that in the future, he would make him laugh more often.

The first rays of sunshine woke the demon up. He looked down to see Aziraphale asleep in his arms. _Finally_ , Crowley thought. _Seems like someone quite enjoys sleep_. He caressed the side of the angel's face, trying to memorize this exact moment.

"I love you, angel."  
"I love you too, my dear."

**Author's Note:**

> The quote Crowley thinks of is from Lemony Snicket, so don't sue me pls.


End file.
